


Sweet Revenge

by Kaidan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Graphic descriptions of the nutritional value of a doughnut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 10:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaidan/pseuds/Kaidan
Summary: Connor judges Hank's eating habits. Hank responds accordingly.





	Sweet Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a joke inspired by something a friend said over on discord, and their positive response encouraged me to post this for all to see. 
> 
> To anyone reading this still waiting for updates on my old teenwolf fics: I'm so sorry.

“The doughnut you're currently eating has 303 calories, Lieutenant. Not to mention 18 grams of sugar--”

“I don't give a rat's ass. Can't you let a man eat his breakfast in peace?”

The bedraggled detective eyes the android sitting at the next desk over, and the damned thing just tilts its head a fraction to the left and allows the right corner of its lips twitch, like it was smiling. Damned thing was getting a kick out of this.

“On the contrary, a doughnut holds too little nutritional value to be a decent meal--”

“Damn it, Connor.” Still, Hank tosses the sugary treat aside, onto the flattened bag he'd produced it from just a few minutes ago. He can't look at it now, he doesn't have an appetite. “Thanks a lot.” 

“You're welcome, Lieutenant.”

Hank stares, trying to figure out of Connor is teasing him or not, and decides he doesn't care. Turning his attention back to the terminal, he huffs out a breath of air, already plotting his revenge.

 

When he arrives after lunch with the box of baked goods, he can just hear the wires sizzling in Connor's head. The android's gaze follows him from the entrance and all the way to their desks, staring unblinkingly as Hank sets the box down, looking rather smug. 

“Lieutenant, what is that?”

“I think you know damned well what this is, Connor. A baker's dozen. All chocolate, even a few sprinkles. Whatddya make of that?”

As he asks, Hank tosses open the lid proudly, lifting one of the aforementioned sprinkle-covered doughnuts to his mouth, taking a large, messy bite right after. Connor is still staring at the box.

“Thirteen doughnuts have a combined caloric intake of 3,939 calories, 117 grams of fat, 2,834 milligrams of sodium, and 234 grams of sugar--”

“Sure does,” says Hank around a mouthful of doughnut. The crumbs fall into his beard, and onto his shirt. Some land on his desk. Connor eyes them, and then flicks his gaze up to the lieutenant. Hank is smirking at him, daring him to protest. Connor stares back.

“I... Believe it best if we get back to work now, Lieutenant,” he says finally, turning his whole body as he redirects his attention on his terminal. Hank nods sagely, and puts the doughnut, half eaten, back into the box.


End file.
